Robin hitches up Martin's shirt, revealing her bikini bottoms, and wades into the water. She shakes her legs as she emerges, then sits down, still wet. The puddle that starts to form around her is respectable. She leans forward and puts the pot on the brazier, then sits back, slicking water off her legs with her fingers. "Where are you staying, River?"

River watches the process of tea-making with an anthropologist's eye. She tilts her head at Robin, curiously. "I am staying here," she says. Duh. Her eyes travel down to Robin's puddle, which she regards studiously.

Martin frets at Robin, "You're going to be cold again. I brought some blankets." One of which he draws out of the knapsack, a woolen thing with frayed edges, but it's clean and warm. He offers it to River, carefully regarding her face rather than the naked parts of her below the neck. "Please accept this," he says earnestly. "As cover from the wind. My way of saying thank you for assuming a form with whom I might speak."

A flicker of movement along the treeline starts to resolve into a horse running at the water's edge, and when he's just close enough to recognize, Thundersnow takes a sharp turn into the lake, plunging through the water until he's neck deep. Once submerged he resembles a log floating with a purpose, or at least a snorting log with trim ears turning in wide figure-eight circles.

"Our local would-be pooka," Robin says to River. "Thank you, but I'm fine, Martin--my legs don't get as cold as the rest of me." She whisks a last few droplets off her fingertips, then glances at the approaching horse. She passes her hands over her face and down her body, then shivers minutely. The outlines of her body square slightly, jaw and brow gaining a bit more definition; the concealing billows of Martin's shirt billow a little less.

River considers the proffered fabric with a carefully blank expression. She raises her eyes to Martin's face. "You are a kind man," she says, and it's not a polite mouthing when she says it; she really means it. "I do not need your dead. Keep them. I have no way to honor them. I thank you for your generosity." She turns her head, looking out over the lake. "He is the snow that thunders," she agrees with Robin, looks back at her--him--and leaps to her feet, scattering shore pebbles hither and yon. "What have you /done/?" she demands.

Martin's pleasant expression goes a little vague with confusion, and for a moment, he just looks at River with the look of a man with absolutely no idea what she's talking about. After a tick, it seems to click and he says, "Oh! Oh, no, this isn't our dead. It's wool. It's, ah... a fiber made from the shorn fleece of sheep. They don't even get hurt in the making of it." He sets the blanket near River in case she changes her mind, then offers a blanket to Robin. With a glance toward the lake, he clucks his tongue fondly and says, "I see Daniel is out and about today, yet another Haven resident intent on catching his death in this weather."

There's noise in the treehouse, then the trapdoor flips open, and Serendipity emerges, sliding down the rope and padding toward the group by the lakeshore. He looks rather bleary, and doesn't appear to have bothered putting on anymore than his trousers to emerge, so a nap is a reasonable deduction. He combs tangles out of his hair with his fingers as he approaches.

Swim-swim-swim-swim, Thundersnow nickers, turning this way and that. Not going to die, the weather is fine, fine for a swim, fine for the swimming. River's voice catches his attention, and the stallion is suddenly making for the shoreline, barely bothering to shake off as he trots towards the group with his ears up and his nostrils flaring. Something is wrong?

Robin jerks back as River leaps to her feet. "What? Oh! I--" He shrugs. "I turned back into a man," he says. "There's a limit to the number of people I'm willing to parade before in my skivvies. Afternoon, Danny. Shake off! I'm wet enough as it is." He glances over his shoulder. "...And good morning, Ren."

River shivers violently, then drops to all fours and shifts directly into her wolf form. Too much strange, too much black magic, too much too much. The river runs backwards, the stars are bright in the earth. Trees grow down. The river does not like it. Does not.

Martin glances toward Ren and looks promptly contrite. "Did I wake you?" he asks as he takes out a few leather packets holding food. There's dried venison, a trail mix with nuts and dried fruit, a half-loaf of bread, and a packet of black tea. "If you like," he tells Thundersnow, "there's tea, but you'll probably need hands for the cup." River's sudden transformation causes his grasp on relative calm to falter. Gender-changes he can handle. Wolf to woman? No problem. Woman to wolf? He regards River worriedly, setting the food aside with slow, distinct caution. "River," he says gently, "please sit with us and break bread. There isn't a soul among us here who will let you come to any harm."

Serendipity mmms drowsily and noncommittally, leaning down a bit to wrap his arms loosely around Martin's neck from behind. "'m good, han'some," he responds then, giving the trader a little kiss on the top of the ear, and flashes a grin at the others, "...heya, cutie, Danny, wolf I dunno."

What magic is black? Where? Thundersnow keeps his distance from River, but he whickers re-assuringly, and his hide shivers about, shaking off some of the water. Trading-one does not have the black magic, he speaks spirit-words. Red-as-robin is, not black magic. Strange magic, not black. Mirror-magic. He paws at the ground, apparently a little confused himself, and tosses his head in a greeting for Ren, Martin, and Robin. Fortunately his mane has dripped off enough that the water doesn't quite reach them.

Of course diamond-stars are bright in the earth, Robin says. Of course tree-roots grow down. My magic is not black. He whuffs indignantly. To Ren, he says, "This is River, who's come to us on a mission from her alpha."

River's hackles rise, and her lips writhe back from her teeth. Do not twist words! she barks at Robin; sudden loud noise from such a silent creature may be startling. Twist-sex, twist-words, red-robin-red-not-what-she-seems! She snorts an explosive sneeze, then turns and trots swiftly away. After a few paces, she passes some invisible threshold and becomes unseen, vanished into the Umbra.

Martin sighs softly as River leaves, and his expression goes all sad. One arm snakes around Ren and draws the kin onto his lap. He wraps the voluminous black cloak around Ren as well as himself, engulfing most of the smaller man. "Well," he says awkwardly, "I guess this must all be very strange for her."

Serendipity lets himself be pulled into the lap and cloak, and curls in comfortably, though he looks a little confused. "What's with the wolf?" he asks, glancing between each of them.

Thundersnow blows out a breath and shies to the side, his ears flattening. Not-what-she-seems, but not-bad, not-- He leaves off the defense as River leaves, and stomps once, annoyed. Very strange for her. We are not as she is used to. We have world-changers defending our caern, cats-teaching-wolfcubs, catcubs-untaught. All strange. His ears wiggle, and he turns in a slow circle once. All strange.

Robin slumps. "I'm sorry, guys," he says. "I was just tired of being a woman. I didn't think a thing like that would shock her."

Martin tells Robin earnestly, "Don't let it bother you. I must imagine this is all very strange for her if she's not used to being around people, let alone such extraordinary people at that." As he says the last part, the warm look he gives Robin makes it sound entirely complimentary. As the teapot begins to bubble, he empties some of the tea into the pot, careful not to disrupt Ren too much. He seems fairly familiar with attempting to do domestic things with a kin on his lap. "The first time I met Tristan," he muses, "he was gravely insulted, told me to fuck off, and stalked off into the night. Now we're fine. Sometimes people just need time."

Serendipity doesn't get in the way much, considering. They've had practice with this, apparently; he even manages to lend a hand to hold things when needed, without being asked. "You switched sex again?" he asks Robin, looking him over. "Still wanna learn =that= trick..."

Thundersnow dips his head to nose at the rocky ground. She is wilder-wolf. It was not shock. Your words to her, made her angry. Not shock, but, a different thing. In an attempt to reach some elusive, hard-to-get itch, he rubs at his head with an extended foreleg.

"Next time I'll remember she's literal-minded," Robin says. "One would think that a wolf that could turn into a human would be a little more used to strangeness, though. Ren, I could teach you the trick, but it's kind of hard to get back again once you've--" He watches Martin and Ren with wide eyes, then curls up giggling. The words "...like a nanny!..." drift out amid his gasps.

Serendipity smirks wickedly at Robin. "I c'n make it look a lot LESS like that if you prefer," he remarks, with the cheerful hint of a threat. "...whether y'taught me th' trick or not. You seem t' get back an' forth okay..."

Martin blinks a bit and regards Robin with a look of puzzlement that is becoming far too much the norm for him these days. "I'm sorry?" he asks, but is then somewhat distracted by Ren and nuzzles his hair. "What would you do if you got stuck as a girl?" Not that he sounds upset about the prospect. With a glance to Thundersnow, he presses, "There's tea and trail mix. I can feed you one but not the other."

Thundersnow snorts at Robin. His tail lashes once, but there's amusement about him as he nickers at her. It is not strange when it is what you are, and all that you know, it is just you. The rest, that is what is strange. The place where you stand changes what you will see. He fixes Martin and Ren with a dark eye, but does not seem to be as tickled by whatever is tickling Robin. There is mix? Granola? Grains? He steps closer, sniffing loudly.

Greedy-thing-eats-like-cub, Robin manages between giggles. His horse accent is awful, largely drowned out by cat and wolf, but it's palpably there. He gets ahold of himself and scrubs his face with his hands. "I can go back and forth because the magic's in my blood," he says in an only slightly quavery voice. "People outside the line have to use a little more--" He snaps his fingers together like scissors. "--persuasion to get from male to female."

Serendipity shifts a few times in Martin's lap, reasonably subtly but in a decidedly unwardlike way. "Miss my prostate," he replies to the trader, after a moment's thought, and blanches a touch at Robin's gesture. "Orrr maybe other things."

Martin gives Ren a scandalized look, murmuring in reply, "I shouldn't have asked." Shaking his head ruefully, he adds, "I've given up on understanding what's going on around me anymore. Here, Daniel." He takes up the leather pouch of trail mix and scoops out a handful, offering it out to the horse. "I've wondered sometimes what it'd be like, to be something other than I am."

*Gelding*. Thundersnow's withers shudder, and he bumps his head against the Ren-and-Martin construct in either an attempt at sympathy, or, to get closer to the food. Possibly even both. I would not want to be a mare. I am happy this way. Ghost-singer agrees with me. He nibbles at Martin's arm briefly in thanks, then snuffles the mix, and lips it up from the trader's palm.

"One gets things to make up the difference," Robin says. "Some find they prefer it. Tiresias himself said that women had a better time in bed, maybe because male Greeks didn't know about multiple orgasms before." He picks up a strip of venison and nibbles. "...Still sure you're uninterested, Ren?" he asks with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Tiresias spend much time as a chick t' do th' comparison?" Ren tosses back, "Anyway, guys can have 'em to, 's just not 'zactly the same. An' I'm only interested in the kinda changing I can change back easy enough... girl or animal or whatever would be cool, long's I c'n change back t' me."

Martin points out, "One might argue that the essential thing that makes you who you are is, at its roots, unchangeable." He holds his hand still for Thundersnow, no stranger to feeding horses. For all his initial awkwardness around shifters, he seems to have become used to the fact that one of his good friends occasionally has hooves. "I think it would be interesting, and -not- just because of multiple orgasms. Yeesh."

You would be you, as the girl, as the animal. Another-you. Human-you would not be the only you. Man-Robin is not a not-Robin. Another-Robin. Thundersnow offers these useful insights as he munches away at the mix, and when it's all gone he noses Martin's hair as a return gift. Spirit-word-speaker is right. You are still you, no matter the shape.

Serendipity waves a hand vaguely. "I meant back t' my usual shape. I =like= my usual shape. I just think bein' able t' change things up at will'd be fun. I mean, thinka all the things you could do with it..."

Robin listens to Danny, then shrugs. "It depends on what you consider you," he says. "From the celestial point of view, whatever you do, that's what you are. Some things are easier in one shape than in another, though, and it can definitely feel like you become another person. As for what you can do with it, well... What /would/ you do, Ren?" In an undertone, he adds, "Don't yeesh multiple orgasms until you've tried one, Martin."

Martin doesn't even pretend to understand beast-speech, but there are basic levels of empathy he has a grasp on, and the nosing of his hair gets a warm, affectionate grin as the trader reaches into the pouch for another handful of the fruit and nut mix. He laughs at Robin's words, and his cheeks betray him with a distinct blush. "I just mean I wouldn't go seeking such a thing merely to satisfy base needs, or even curiosity." He gives Ren a squeeze, adding, "I like your usual shape too."

Thundersnow is not sky-sight, and cannot see from that place. When I am the man, I am still the horse. When I am the horse, I am still the man. That is what I am, always. It is not to feel different, it is me as me. As proof, he starts in on the second offering of fruits and nuts without complaint, which he would (almost certainly) do in a human form as well.

"He has," Ren replies innocently to Robin, and then stretches a little, resettling himself in the lap while he considers. "Well, there's the obvious stuff, 'course. Could try havin' kids maybe, though that'd mean three seasons of it at least... then, y'know, could also just surprise people, or make a really kickass disguise for when someone's lookin' for me, or get inta women-only clubs an' such without finding unlocked windows or whatever," he muses. "See how people react differently. Things like that."

"But you've always been a Perunka," Robin says to Danny. "What if you could suddenly change into a merman?" He resolutely ignores Ren's first comment, but the rest of the answer seems to please him. "What ould you be willing to do for such a thing?"

Martin also tries to ignore the first part of Ren's answer. He dutifully feeds the Perunka, and when the trail mix is polished off, he sets about pouring tea for the three bipeds, and a fourth cup in case the hooved one wants to try to work it out somehow. All the while, his cheeks color all the darker. Not a word from him, this time.

There is a spirit-gift for that. Thundersnow noses Martin's shoulder, and shifts his weight from one back hoof to the other. His tail swings back and forth in a dark, clumpy mass. It would be a learning. A new me, but still a me. As the swimming-horse-in-the-water, I would still be the horse, and the man. Still Thundersnow-on-the-mountain-that-greets-with-fire.

Serendipity looks thoughtful again, and takes a few quiet moments to sip the tea Martin hands him. "...Dunno," he replies, then, "depend what the person wanted for it an' what exactly their sida the deal was."

"But you wouldn't be swimming-horse-in-the-water," Robin says, accepting a cup of tea. "You would be a merman. Gills, webbed feet, no tail, blue skin, the lot." He takes a sip, remembering too late that he didn't sweeten it yet. He manages to get the sip down with effort. "...Erm. Aughm. The change in self doesn't--argm--doesn't happen all at once; it takes time to see what your body's become." He coughs into his hand. "...Good point, Ren. If they weren't going to gain anything but what you exchanged for it--if it were their job, say--what's the most precious thing you'd trade?"

Martin promptly looks apologetic and reaches around Ren to rummage in the knapsack. "I have honey," he tells Robin, his tone full of remorse. "I'm so sorry. I don't know where my head is these days."

Changing self is always slow. But you are still you. Even if self is changing. I am still me, even though my-self has changed so much, from mate, from dreams, from kumi. Thundersnow noses Ren and Martin a final time, then slowly backs away. Must go back, back to work. He walks over to subject Robin to a hair-nibbling, and then with a low neigh of farewell, turns and breaks into a run towards the house.

Serendipity tilts his head up to murmur something short into Martin's ear, and gives Thundersnow a scritch between the ears before the perunka departs. He shakes his head then, looking back to Robin. "I dunno. I'm not real attached to =things=, mostly. Just one or two things I wouldn't give up, an' people. I'd hafta wait an' see what the person asked for. Or who it was so I could figure out what they'd want."

[Whisper: "=I= do..."]

Robin submits to Danny's nibbling, holding his head still and rolling his eyes up to see what he can see. "Afternoon, Danny!" He accepts the honey with half a bow, patting at his nibbled curls with his free hand. "Horse spit in my hair! Thank you, Martin. Don't apologize, please--I've gotten spoiled, always wanting honey in my tea." He adds a generous dollop, then passes the jar back. "We were supposed to drink tea straight, back home. It was supposed to be good for our health. But sugar was such a treat that I vowed that when I grew up and got rich, I'd drink nothing but sweet tea all the time." He takes a sip and smiles. "I suppose that makes me rich now."

Martin adds a bit of honey to Ren's tea, and then some to his own. "Well, it keeps the bees in business," he replies pleasantly. He grins at Danny fondly in parting, noting after the Perunka has gone, "I really owe him so much. Our Daniel truly is a blessing."

Serendipity waits for the honey as well, and rests his head against Martin's shoulder absently. "Danny's a good guy," he agrees, and leaves it at that.

"Practically built my house," Robin comments to his tea.

Martin drapes an arm across Ren's chest and draws him close, an intimate gesture that is without self-consciousness and thankfully devoid of get-a-room-iness. "He's the one who suggested I annotate the Bible. Plus, he's helped out so much with the trade, and so much of what he's making is really going to benefit the fellowship in Millinocket." With a wry smile, he adds, "Plus he's the first real friend I made in Haven, but thankfully not the last."

Serendipity mms in agreement, and curls in a little more. "Thankfully," he echoes, giving the trader a quick smile. To Robin, he remarks, "He's helpin' rebuild the one my kumi's plannin' to live in, too. 'cause of Rae, 'course, but it's nicea him t' help anyhow."

Robin perks. "Where are you moving to?" He fluffs the slowly drying shirt, revealing a glimpse of blue bathing shorts.

Martin sips his tea, resting his chin upon the top of Ren's head as he watches Robin with a mild expression. Height has its advantages, and using someone's head as a chin rest is but one of them. "It'll be a pretty little house once it gets fixed up," Martin remarks, though he lets Ren answer the actual question.

Martin's chin is apparently not pointy enough to elicit protest. Ren gestures vaguely in the direction of the house, replying, "That way. It was in half-decent shape, not great but workable. 's got a great bathroom, big tub an' all. 'spect we'll have a housewarming party once it's ready."

"That way" is all of Haven, but Robin lets that slide. His eyes go starry. "A big tub? With indoor plumbing? Is the water heated? Is the /house/ heated?"

Martin stirs a bit. Comfort clearly comes at the cost of running a risk of dozing. His eyes drift closed, but then he opens them again and sits up. "There's indoor plumbing," he confirms. "Shouldn't be too hard to get hot water flowing."

Serendipity beams. "It'll be niiiice. I mean, not that bathin' in the lake doesn't have a certain something, but all the same." He reaches up and ruffles Martin's hair fondly. "You're fallin' asleep," he informs him.

"That's luxury living," Robin says. "...What certain something? Do you mean the fish poking at your knees, or the little sharp rocks waiting to stab your toes, or the impossibility of getting out without muddying your feet?" He watches Martin drift in and out of consciousness with amusement. "Shall I leave you alone so Ren can wake you up, Martin?"

Martin ducks his head, half-hiding his sheepish grin against Ren's hair. "I was up most of the night," he replies apologetically, "and it's so hard not to feel comfortable in the company of friends." He stretches, then starts to carefully untangle himself from Ren. "Maybe a short nap." At the mention of Ren waking him up, Martin scuffs a foot self-consciously. "Very short."

"The freezing cold water in Wint reminding you how t' sing soprano," Ren replies wryly, and then grins, shrugging, "...but it =does= have that whole close-t'-nature feeling." He twists himself out of Martin's lap cooperatively, standing and offering the big blond a hand up.

"One somehow doubts you are ever very far from nature," Robin says wryly. He drains his cup and places it beside the brazier. "You lads go take a nap. I'll see to the lunch things."

Martin takes Ren's hand, though he hauls himself up mostly on the strength of his own muscles. "It's always such a pleasure to see you, Robin." Perhaps predictably, he sounds utterly sincere. "In whatever form you wish to assume. Hopefully we'll cross paths again before I head back down to Millinocket."